Accepting New Life
by Atlantianis
Summary: The continuing story of Sherlock Holmes and Helena Christophersen. It's been months since Helena swiftly left 221b after Sherlocks accident. Both their lives have changed since their last encounter and what will happen when their altered-selves meet once more and previous demons must be faced? - Still pre-Reichenbach
1. Nine Months Later

**This came quicker than I thought, but I got an incredibly sweet review and it set fire to my imagination and I just wrote everything! I'm doing everything myself so I will apologize for writing mistakes! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to the BBC: Sherlock universe**

* * *

"Come on, Sherlock, we're going!" John shouted up the stairs of 221b.

"Why?" the question wasn't shouted back, just a tame, simple question.

"Because our _friend_, a woman who has lived in this very apartment for many months has just had a baby, _that's_ why," John answered back, and put every word out as if he was feeding Sherlock with them.

"Okay," Sherlock answered, and quietly came down the stairs. He knew what's been going on, and had a feeling about it for many weeks, no, months now. The sudden break of communication had long since declared what might be going on. Now his previous assumption was right. And this was the only time in his life he wished for not being right.

But who was he trying to fool? Of course he was right.

He stood with his face against the glass, silently looking at the new-born children in the plastic bowls, just big enough to hold them. But his gaze didn't sweep over them; it was directed simply to one of them. She was tucked in the normal and cliché pink blanket. Sleeping. The child in mind was beautiful, he thought. He'd never seen such a beautiful baby in his entire life. She had already grown some hair. The hair was dark, slightly lighter than his own. At the moment he couldn't really see the facial structure, it was just plain baby at the moment. The rounded face, with full cheeks and a tiny little mouth.

"I didn't really think you would be here," Helena said and stood beside him, looking at the same baby he was looking at.

"Valerie," he just whispered, nearly careful not to wake the babies on the other side of the glass, the wall.

"What?" she asked, like as silently.

"I've always liked Valerie. It was my grandmother's name," Sherlock answered.

"It's a very pretty name, Sherlock," Helena said while she put her hand on his shoulder. He didn't shy away from the touch as he usually did.

"Why did you leave?" Sherlock plainly asked.

"You know why I left, Sherlock," Helena answered.

"No, I don't actually," Sherlock said and turned towards her, breaking the gaze he had on the baby.

"I left because I was frightened," Helena said, not looking at him. His eyes were drilling into the side of her face.

"You were frightened? I was the one who nearly died," Sherlock answered.

"I'm very aware of that Sherlock, but you weren't afraid, but someone had to,"

"So you decided the best thing to do was to leave me," Sherlock hissed.

"Leave _you_?" Helena said with shock written on her face.

"Yes, you left me," Sherlock said matter-of-factly.

"No, I didn't just leave you. I left John and Molly, two people who became very important for me," she said, tears building up in her eyes from frustration and exhaustion.

"Then I really don't understand why you left," Sherlock spat.

"No, of course you won't understand that, Sherlock," she said as she went back to her room.

She left him standing there, by the window. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. He regretted a lot of what he had said, but he couldn't understand what was wrong – why she'd left in the first place. He turned around to look at the child again; she was fuzzing in her bowl and let out a large yawn. Sherlock found himself involuntarily smiling at the action, he frowned and walked away, shaking her head.

* * *

"So, Sherlock, have you met the new mother?" John said with a large heartfelt grin on his face.

"Yes, I have," Sherlock answered. He wasn't sure of what he felt at the moment.

"And why are you so bitter? Are you jealous?" John said jokingly and lightly punched Sherlock on the arm. He received a glare from hell in return, and John truly felt naked and unsafe under that stare.

"Right, right, I won't joke about it again, why _are_ you so bitter?" John asked with furrowed brows.

"I have unanswered questions, which I will come back another day for," Sherlock said and bolted out of the hospital. John just watched him leave with large eyes. He had really hoped that this would have gone a lot better.

John silently knocked at Helena's door and received a 'come in' from the inhabitant.

"Hello, how's motherhood," John said and offered a large hug which Helena gladly received.

"Well, I've only been at it for six hours, but I'm doing okay," she answered and gave a tired smile.

Moments later a nurse came in with the little miracle that had only hours ago entered this world. Helena's entire face lit up when the child was trolleyed into the room and she gladly took the child from the nurse and began breastfeeding it.

"I hope you don't mind?" Helena said.

"No, I'm a doctor remember, but how could I – it's a beautiful gesture," John said and went to get a closer look of the little person. Helena just gave a warm laugh in return.

"It's surprising how something so beautiful came from something so-," Helena broke the sentence and decided to not go on despite John's curious gazes.

"That's a story for another time," Helena answered.

"So, what will you name her? Preferably not something incredibly difficult and Norwegian, I hope," John asked.

"Well," Helena just laughed. "No, I haven't decided anything yet, actually,"

"Oh, well, unfortunately it's not a boy, then you could have called her Hamish or Theo or something," John laughed back.

"Well, Hamish, where have I heard that before?" Helena joked while putting her finger on her chin dramatically.

"Why are you giving birth here, by the way? Wouldn't it be logical giving birth in Norway?" John asked while shaking his head questioningly.

"Well, I was in France actually, and then I had to go here to meet someone and then it was suddenly time to go so I called Molly and she sat me up," Helena smiled, giving the baby back to the nurse since she was finished nursing.

"Oh, that way. Well, as you probably have understood, it was Molly who told," John laughed.

"I gathered," Helena nodded her head.

There was a long silence, neither of them saying anything but there was one subject hanging in the air; "why did you go?".

"I can't tell you," Helena said. "Not yet,"

"Sometimes you are like as mysterious as Sherlock, you know. You two have a lot in common," John said and left.

"We got more in common that you might think," she whispered and sighed to herself.


	2. The House Call

Helena sat in her little rented flat in London. In her hands she held the most wonderful and most significant girl in the entire world. A little child that in the wrong hands - would be used as a weapon. She hummed a nursing song while the child was nursing silently on her breast, making sounds of contentment.

"Oh, you have so much to see," Helena smiled as she told the baby. The child finished nursing and began giving sleepy laughs in the warm and safe arms of her mother. Helena watched over her as she fell asleep, and rocked her silently.

Helena had decided to not have a baptism for the child, but to simply just fill out the papers at the Norwegian Embassy, who would again send them to Norway to have it all fixed. It pained her greatly to leave the 'Father' space open. The child obviously had a father, but the father is usually notified before they end up on that slot on a birth-certificate.

"And you have yet so many to meet," she continued while the child was sleeping. Helena brought the child back to the crib and tucked her in nicely before she just stood there, looking at the little creature that had inhabited her body for the last nine months.

"And you have yet to meet the greatest man who has ever lived," she said as she went out of the room.

* * *

"JOHN!" Sherlock shouted

"WHAT?"

"WHERE ARE MY CONTAMINATED EYES? I PUT THEM IN THE FRIDGE JUST YESTERDAY!" Sherlock shouted again.

"You know, stop shouting like a three-year-old and most importantly – stop storing contaminated eyes in the fridge. Normal people store food in there," John puffed.

"Normal is boring," Sherlock said and threw every article of food into the thrash.

"You're buying food next time, Sherlock," John said as he walked out of the kitchen.

"Me? Why?" Sherlock pretended to be interested.

"Because I just spent 60£ on decent food that you just threw away. I'm finished feeding you," John said while he sat down next to his laptop.

"Please stop talking about mundane things, John. Next time say something interesting – or not boring,"

"Okay, what about what happened in the hospital the other day, care to explain?" John looked up at Sherlock who went over to the window, watching over the street like a hawk.

"No, I don't," Sherlock said.

"When will you?" John asked again.

"When the questions have been answered," Sherlock sighed over John's slowness.

"Then go on a house call," John was impatient with Sherlock's behaviour.

"Boring," Sherlock sang.

"Then stop _sulking_, goddamit!" John exclaimed.

* * *

Then there were a long silence. Sherlock was determinedly ignoring John's presence, while John was regretting what he'd said.

"Okay, look, Sherlock. I'm your friend, and I will always be that. But lately you've been acting more strange than before, and you haven't taken on any new cases," John said dejected.

"Yes?" Sherlock said, not turning around.

"What has happened? Are you doing cocaine again, what is going on?" John continued, nearly defeated by the wall he was receiving from Sherlock.

"I think you're right," Sherlock said and turned around, his eyes had lost all of the sparkle it used to have. Now he looked old and tired. "I think we should go on a house call,".

"What is it?" a concerned Molly asked when Helena put down the phone.

"John and Sherlock are coming over, I'm so sorry," Helena said and slumped down into the chair.

"Why?" Molly asked and took a sip from her cup.

"I have no idea… I know how it is for you when Sherlock is around, but please stay," Helena asked and put her hand on Molly'. She knew that Sherlock wouldn't tone anything down even though other people were around, but at least now she wasn't alone.

"Yeah, sure," Molly hesitated before she answered.

"I thought you might try, or something," Helena hinted at their conversation months earlier.

"Yes, well. There must be a quite extraordinary woman to catch Sherlock's attention. And to my knowledge there's only been two," Molly answered.

"You're extraordinary!" Helena contradicted.

"No, I'm ordinary, normal – boring. I'm a very good pathologist, but as a person I'm just average," Molly said, but with her head standing tall. "Oh, don't worry. I've met someone, whom I will not tell anything about yet!"

"Well, fine then. I won't ask anything _now_, just wait! But, who has been the two women, if I dare ask?" Helena questioned while she took a sip of her water.

"Well, you it seems. I'm pretty sure he was as close to heartbroken when he'd figured out you'd left. And then the other woman is some lady called Adler or something. Apparently a call girl of some sorts,"

"A call girl? Well, she must be something special then. I didn't know Sherlock kept such mundane activities," both of them laughed. Helena had missed Molly so much in the time she'd been away.

There was two hard knocks on the door. Helena recognised them immediately as Sherlock's. There was a numbing silence in the flat as Helena decided whether or not to open the door.

"You should open," Molly said, trying to encourage Helena. She smiled back. Helena hated the feeling she was having, but it was like when she was a little girl and knew she would be yelled at by her parents for her bad behaviour – now was no different.

Molly walked over to the door and opened it, not surprisingly it was Sherlock closest on the other side.

"Well, hello," she smiled and let them in.

"Hello," John smiled and gave her a hug. "Hello, Molly! I didn't know you had visitors?"

"Hello," Molly said from her chair.

"Well, I imagine that Mr Holmes here wouldn't have bothered anyway," Helena answered and smiled.

Sherlock sat down in the chair Helena had just vacated, and John stood awkwardly next to the sofa.

"So, where's the little one?" John asked with true enthusiasm. He really didn't know what was going on, Helena thought.

"Oh, she's just having a nap. She should be waking up soon," Helena smiled to John. Again there was a silence and everybody looked a bit uncomfortable, except Sherlock who looked like he was on a mission – and Helena knew what he was up to. "So, why are you over?"

"I have the understanding that house calls are normal when it comes to families with new-born children," Sherlock said.

"Yes, but you are everything but ordinary," Helena answered, crossing her arms. He was never going to get the upper hand on her home base.

"Well, thank you," Sherlock answered. A little moment later there was silent baby screams from the room across the hall. Molly and John looked lovingly up at Helena; Helena was looking at Sherlock who was looking at the door that held the source. For a split second Helena could see something that did resemble longing in Sherlock's eyes, but it quickly vanished to empty grey pools.

"I'm sorry," Helena excused herself as she went to change and dress the baby.

"So, what has she called the baby?" John asked Molly, hoping she had the answer.

"She called her Theodora," Molly answered, and John gave knowingly a small laugh when he remembered their previous conversation about names. Surprisingly for John, Sherlock didn't scoff as she said it – he just sat perfectly still.

"Theodora, that's lovely," John said to himself.

"Yes, well, I personally thought it was a bit boyish, but she softened it up," Molly said and smiled.

"How?" Sherlock said, and surprised both Molly and John by participating.

"Valerie, Theodora's name is Theodora Valerie," Molly said and forced a smile towards him. Sherlock didn't even look up at her.

Helena stood in the nursery and was struggling to put the diaper back on. She never had problems with it before, but knowing the many different outcomes of this situation she couldn't keep calm. There would be a confrontation about everything, and it would happen now. She calmly walked out of the nursery holding little Theodora in her hands – trying hard to keep her breath under control. When she looked up at the people in her living room, Molly and John quickly turned their attention to the little laughing baby in Helena's arms, but Sherlock seemingly was struggling to keep his eyes away. But he failed. Shortly after the John and Molly he met eyes with Helena and then sank them until he met the eyes of the little creature making noise. They locked eyes, and Theodora gave a little smile which could have been mistaken as a sign of acceptance from her – but Sherlock knew that babies didn't have the capacity to show such complicated forms of communications.

"So, this is Theodora," Helena said and nervously shifted her weight. It did not go by unnoticed by Sherlock.

"She's beautiful!" John happily exclaimed and reached out his hands as a silent request to hold her which Helena gladly accepted. "Aren't you a beautiful girl," John said and tickled the girl's nose.

"John, look," Sherlock said quietly as he was glaring at Helena.

"Look at what?" John was confused and thought he was holding the child wrong.

"No, not that, look _at_ the child," Sherlock said, hoping he would find out on his own.

"I don't understand, wha-," John cut his sentence. Suddenly he saw what Sherlock had been asking for. The dark brown, nearly black curls; the intense eyes and high cheekbones. Three of the four marks did Helena bear as well, but there was one thing Helena did not have, and that was the curls.

"When did it happen," John asked.

"It happened the night before I was attacked and she left me, not knowing whether or not I would survive," Sherlock said dramatically.

"The doctor's said you would survive," Helena protested.

"Well, I wasn't talking about the physical death, and you know it," Sherlock said and glared at her even more intensely.

"What would you have me do, huh? Sit vigil for you?" Helena shouted back at Sherlock, tired of this mess.

"I wanted you to stay," Sherlock shouted back, Theodora began to cry. Instinctively Helena took Theodora from John and began petting her, Sherlock also felt an uncomfortable drag towards the child and the need to protect it – only in this he would have to protect her from himself.

"And then what would you do, Sherlock? What would you have done when I figured out I was pregnant? Would you have joined in on all the doctors' appointments, would you try to encourage me to continue going on through all the morning sickness? Would you have held my hand and breathed and pushed with me during the labour? What would you have done Sherlock?" Helena spat at him, and the poison seethed into his skin and was hurting him. He made a grimace. "What would you have done?" Helena said again, and walked back into the nursery trying to calm the baby.


	3. The Past

**A/N: **Okay, so I'm very sorry that it took so long for me to write something so short. But the truth is that this chapter was very hard to write. But anyway. Do enjoy it :)

* * *

Sherlock can remember everything. Well, of course he can remember everything – he's Sherlock Holmes. But he could really remember everything. He remembered how it felt as he was suddenly dragged into the dark alley, unable to see the face of his attacker. He remembered how it felt as he was kicked in the stomach with large and hard boots that cracked his ribs on impact. He remembered how it got hard to breathe and how everything started to become blurry. He distinctively remembered how it felt as the cold steel came into contact with the sensitive skin on his neck and as it cut into it. He remembered the gagging reflex that came as the muscles around his neck started to contract, and he wasn't able to breathe anymore.

He vaguely remembered the ambulance-ride and the medics pushing and hurrying to stop the bleeding from his neck.

And then it went blank. He could no longer remember what happened in the real, physical world anymore. His mind went crazy, like someone had broken into his mind-palace and was throwing a rave-party. It hurt; every beat of his heart made his head pulsate with immense pain. He just wanted it to stop. He wanted to be left alone, to rest.

_Sherlock_

"What?" he thought to himself as a heavy fog landed around him. He was back in the alley again.

_Sherlock_

"Where are you?" he shouted as loudly as he could, yet there came no sound from his mouth.

_Sherlock_

He turned around to see a shining figure, with an unfamiliar yet familiar shape.

_Come with me_

He followed her. Each step became heavier and heavier.

_DON'T YOU DARE DIE!_

He heard a scream, the sentence was shouted by more than one voice and hit hurt his head again.

_Come, you have to come_

"Where am I going?"

_Back_

The voice answered simply.

"Where is that?"

_Back to him – to her_

"Who are you?"

_You know who I am_

"No, I don't,"

_I am you hopes_

"I don't believe in God,"

_I know you don't_

"Okay?"

_I'm not God_

"Then who are you?"

_I'm who you hope for_

There was laughter in the shadows, not kind laughter as you might hear at a party – but more like hyenas ready to hunt their pray.

_You must come, quickly_

"I can't – I can't move my feet"

_You must fight it Sherlock!_

"No," he said exhaustedly.

_"Will he survive?" _he heard someone say.

_"We cannot promise anything," _

_"Promise what?"_

_"We cannot promise. Brain damage,"_

_SHERLOCK!_

"WHAT?" he shouted back.

_Goodbye, Sherlock_

"No!"

_I'm going to miss you_

"Don't leave!"

He opened his eyes. He could see John sleeping in the chair next to him. Out of the room, though the blinders on the window, he could see Molly and Helena. They were looking at him, and then Helena left.


End file.
